Adrien’s POV
Ti slowed to a sickening crawl.
One mont, the roller coaster was cresting the first drop—wind howling, screams ripping through the air—and the next, a warm, wet splat hit the back of my jacket.
Caron twisted in his seat beside , eyes wide.
"Did she just—"
"Yes," I said, very slowly.
My wife had just puked on .
And I couldn’t get to her.
Not with the safety harness locked across my chest.
Not with the machine roaring through loops and drops like so hellish, tallic prison.
The ride plunged into another loop, and Isabella whimpered behind —followed by frantic, muffled swearing from her friend.
"Oh my God—BELLA, I SWEAR TO GOD—"
The coaster roared through the next inversion, my stomach lurching for entirely different reasons. The sll was—God, the sll was sothing unholy.
Caron was laughing. The bastard was laughing, tears streaming down his face, his grip on the safety bar white-knuckled with sheer delight.
"This is the best day of my life," he wheezed.
I inhaled deeply.
Unacceptable.
I clicked my earpiece twice.
A signal.
Two seconds later, a voice crackled through the line:
"Ergency halt in motion, sir. Stopping now."
Good.
The brakes screeched mid-loop.
People scread again—not from fear, but surprise—as the coaster jolted to a sharp, unnatural stop on the track.
My world narrowed to a single point behind .
"Is she hurt?" I demanded.
"We’re assessing—"
"NOW."
"Yes, sir."
The ride attendants sprinted up the maintenance stairs like their lives depended on it—because, right now, they absolutely did.
Caron let out a slow whistle beside .
"You just shut down an entire roller coaster in six seconds."
I ignored him.
The restraint released with a tallic snap.
Finally.
I stood—slowly, deliberately—bracing one hand on the tal rail as the cart wobbled from the sudden stop.
The stench of vomit hit .
Mine?
No.
I didn’t care.
Let it burn the shirt right off my back.
I only cared about her.
ISABELLA’S POV
I didn’t just puke.
I detonated.
Everything—every bite of turkey leg, every churro sugar crystal, every molecule of mac-and-cheese—launched itself out of my body with the tragic force of a soul exiting a flesh prison.
And straight onto the poor, innocent man in front of .
The sound was... wet.
The splash was... undeniable.
The sha was... biblical.
The scream of the roller coaster was nothing—nothing—compared to the scream lodged inside my soul.
Aria gasped so loudly the wind stole half of it.
"Oh my God—BELLA—"
I wanted to die.
No, not die.
Disappear. Spontaneously combust. Detach my spirit from my body and float into the sun.
Another man beside the stranger wheezed like a dying donkey.
"Oh—oh my—ADRI—PFFT—OH GOD—BRO—"
He was laughing so hard I thought he might actually collapse.
"CARON SHUT UP—" Aria snapped.
I whipped toward her.
"How do you know his na is Caron?!"
Aria froze.
Then laughed awkwardly.
"I—I heard the one you puked on call him that! You know I have long ears!"
I stared at her, horrified.
"So you just call strangers by their nas? What if they’re criminals?! What if they’re—"
"Oh honey," Caron wheezed, wiping tears, "trust , we’re the least of your worries."
Then—
THUNK.
The roller coaster jerked, hard enough to rattle my teeth.
The brakes slamd so suddenly the entire train lurched forward. People scread—not fun screams, angry screams, the "why is my life being interrupted" screams.
Even Aria shrieked.
Then—
"OH MY GOD," she yelled over the wind, "IS THIS FATE? IS THIS COSMIC INTERVENTION? BELLA, YOU JUST BODY-FLUID-BONDED WITH YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND—"
"ARIA," I croaked, mortified beyond human asure, "shut. up."
But she was vibrating with the enthusiasm of soone who had just watched the universe drop a plot twist in her lap.
"I knew today would be special," she said, breathlessly. "I didn’t know it would be—this. But I support it."
The ride was still.Frozen.
Too frozen.
Amusent parks don’t stop roller coasters mid-drop unless soone died, gave birth, or—apparently—unless I unleashed a digestive apocalypse.
A staff voice echoed through the speakers:
"Please remain seated. We are performing a temporary safety check."
Safety check my ass.I knew what this was.
I threw up.On a stranger.That was enough to traumatize the staff into pulling the ergency brake.
I slumped forward, face buried in my hands, wishing for instant smiting. "I cannot—Aria, I cannot live anymore."
"Oh hush," she said, patting my back like I was a disgraced cat. "Look on the bright side."
"There is no bright side."
"You puked toward soone. That ans you trust him. This is bonding."
"I should be jailed."
"And yet," she said, leaning forward like she was observing a rare wildlife event, "I feel like... this is ant to be."
"Why," I whispered, voice cracked with spiritual defeat, "would the universe ever an for this to be?"
"Because," she said dramatically, "your soul mate is in the front row... covered in your mac-and-cheese smoothie. If that’s not destiny, I don’t know what is."
I whimpered.
People were muttering behind us. Soone gagged. Soone cursed. Soone asked if refunds were possible.
And ?
My stomach was empty, but sohow my soul kept dry-heaving.
The coaster was dead still.
Too still.
Why did it stop this fast?
I swallowed, throat stinging, sha coating every inch of . "I need to apologize... oh my God, I puked on an actual human being—"
"Yes," Aria said, eyes sparkling. "And he’s probably gorgeous. Fate wouldn’t give you an ugly puke-victim for your grande love story."
"Aria."
"Yes?"
"Please stop matchmaking with bodily fluids."
She grinned.
The ride hissed—so chanism unlocking—and the staff began approaching the train.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Because any second now...
I was going to have to face the stranger whose back I baptized with my sins.
I swallowed hard.
Aria elbowed . "Okay. Mont of truth. Breathe. Smile. Apologize. Maybe faint—fainting is cute if you do it gracefully."
"I don’t faint gracefully," I muttered. "I flop like a dead fish."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Which might still earn sympathy points."
Before I could hit her, the staff reached our section.
"Are you alright?" one of them asked gently, already leaning back from the sll.
No.
I was not alright.
I was a walking biohazard.
"I—I’m fine," I whispered. "I just need to apologize to the person in front—"
He stepped out of his seat before the staff mber could help him.
And for a second, ti didn’t stop.
It evaporated.
Tall.
Fine build.
Clothes stretched in all the right places.
Hands braced casually on the safety rail like he wasn’t dripping with the disastrous remains of my lunch.
His hair was a little ssy from the wind, curling slightly at the ends. His posture alone scread money, authority, danger.
I didn’t even see his face yet.
I just felt it.
That weird, stomach-twisting jolt people always talk about but I never believed in. Like my body rembered sothing my mind didn’t.
He turned.
Slowly.
And the world sharpened.
Sharp jaw.
Cold, cutting beautiful amber eyes.
Handso wasn’t the word.
He looked like a problem.
A very expensive, very emotionally unavailable problem.
And he looked... furious.
Not loud-furious.
Not flailing-furious.
The quiet kind.
The "this man files lawsuits for fun" kind.
The "my life was fine until YOU" kind.
I am so cooked.
His jaw flexed once as he stared at , drenched and destroyed.
I died.
I ascended.
I ca back down because God wasn’t done humiliating .
"I—" My voice cracked. "I’m so, so, so sorry—"
He blinked once.
Not slow.
Not fast.
Just... controlled.
His eyes stayed locked on .
So intense my lungs forgot how to function.
The staff approached him with frantic apologies, towels, water, wet wipes, dical spray—everything.
He ignored them.
Ignored all of them.
Except .
Why?
Why was he looking at like that?
Why did his gaze feel like recognition?
Like accusation?
Like sothing older than five minutes ago?
I swallowed hard.
And whispered:
"I really am sorry. I—I didn’t an to ruin your day—"
The bar lifted.
And everything happened at once.
I tried to stand while still apologizing to him.
My legs imdiately decided to audition for a telenovela and gave out under .
I lurched forward—
—and strong arms caught .
Not just caught .
Lifted .
Effortlessly.
Like I weighed nothing.
I froze.
My palms pushed weakly against a chest. A broad, warm, steady chest.
The scent from earlier hit again.
Clean. Cool. Familiar.
My throat tightened.
"Put—put down," I choked, though it sounded about as threatening as a dizzy kitten. "I’m—Aria—ARIA??"
But Aria wasn’t helping.
She was looking at with huge, apologetic eyes.
"I’m so sorry," she mouthed to . "Please—just get her sowhere safe. She’s—she’s not usually like this."
"Aria?!" I squeaked. "What do you AN ’get her sowhere safe’—are you leaving with STRANGERS???"
Aria winced. "Bella... he can help you."
"What part of LOOKS LIKE IT NEEDS A MAN?!" I hissed.
"The part that almost fell off a roller coaster."
I opened my mouth to argue—
Then realized the world was tilting again.
I gripped the front of his shirt on instinct.
His chest moved with a controlled, steady breath.
"Easy," he murmured—LOW, deep, like gravel ward by sun.
My heart stuttered.
"Sir," I said sharply, because if I didn’t pretend to have dignity I would spontaneously implode, "I appreciate the... arms. Truly. But I’m not being kidnapped today."
"You’re not," he said simply.
"Well it feels like a kidnapping."
"You’re safe."
That voice.
Why did that voice—
Why did my body believe him?
The voice. It was... unsettlingly familiar. Like a song I’d heard once, a long ti ago, that had sohow burrowed into the corners of my mory. No, not a song. A feeling. A presence.
I pushed against him again, a futile gesture that only served to press closer. My stomach, though empty, still did a nervous flip. The sll of his cologne, mingled with the faint, sickening after-scent of my own digestive rebellion, was a bizarre, overwhelming combination.
Aria walked beside us, guilt eating her alive. "Bella, he’s not dangerous. Trust . If anything, you’re the danger—your stomach literally committed a hate cri."
I groaned into my hands.
The Caron was still laughing behind us.
"Bro, this is the greatest day of my life—"
"Caron," the man carrying said low. Warning. Deadly calm.
The Caron shut up instantly.
Which only confused MORE.
Who WERE these n??
My head spun.
My pride bled out.
My dignity died.
And still...
Still...
I didn’t fight him.
Not really.
Because sowhere in the back of my mind, in a place I didn’t recognize but my body did—
this felt safe.
Like I knew this warmth.
Like I knew this steadiness.
Like I knew... him.
And that terrified more than the incident ever could.
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